


Indencency

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Anger, Confusion, Crack Treated Seriously, Explanations, False Accusations, Mid-Canon, Mischief, Movie Reference, Poor Prowl is very confused and angry, Puns & Word Play, Suspicions, Word Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6557038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smokescreen and Spike decide to play word games and end up plotting a conspiracy against Optimus Prime—at least, that's what Prowl thinks. He's getting as bad as Red Alert!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indencency

Spike was grinning so widely that it seemed like it might hurt. This wasn’t anything unusual, but the mech smiling back at him wasn’t Bumblebee, Ironhide, or any of the other mechs he was closest to. In fact, this was a companion he rarely ever talked to at all. The two of them had spotted him as he passed the lounge and _then_ they had started smiling, which meant it had something to do with him. That was what gave Prowl the urge to fully enter the room instead of going about his business, though he might end up regretting it.

“Smokescreen,” he greeted his cousin first. “Spike. How are you?”

“Great! We were just about to watch something,” Spike told him innocently. “If you want, you could come and watch it with us.”

Prowl raised an eyebrow warily. “Thank you for the offer, but I tend to enjoy watching something more if I know what it is.” There was a pause in which they continued smiling fixedly at him and he made an abortive move back toward the door. “If you don’t intend to tell me, I _do_ have work to finish.”

“Oh, are you sure?” Smokescreen tutted in the chiding tone that made Prowl’s doorwings want to twitch. “I’m sure you would enjoy it! Come on, Prowl, let’s watch _The Matrix_.”

Tilting his helm slightly, Prowl replied reassuringly, “That isn’t necessary, Smokescreen; it’s quite safe under Optimus’ care.” Spike snickered slightly at the words, earning an expression of affronted surprise from the SIC. “Did I say something funny or do you doubt Optimus’ ability?”

“Oh, not at all!” Spike assured him, giggling as he added, “But I’ve watched _The Matrix_ before—”

“I beg your pardon?” To Prowl’s knowledge, Optimus had never removed the Matrix by choice, but he knew as a matter of fact that there were some things that escaped him, so he ventured cautiously, “Has he entrusted it to you?”

“No, of course not, but I’ve seen it before,” Spike tried to explain.

Prowl nodded, deciding he finally understood. “Then he’s shown it to you before. That’s a great honor—”

“No, no,” Spike cut him off, biting his lower lip for a minute to recollect himself before finishing, “Optimus has never shown me the Matrix.”

Blinking rapidly, Prowl questioned, “How could you have seen it without Optimus’ explicit permission?” Even as he asked, his battle computer was running through the scenarios.

 _Optimus removing the Matrix from his chest is doubtful and, unless Spike is lying, he has never opened his chest plating to show him, so how could…? Unless…That isn’t possible! The probability of Spike being able to_ steal _the Matrix—! But Smokescreen…If it was what he considered a prank…_

It should be impossible, but if all options were ruled out except the impossible, the impossible option had to be the right one! Taking on a severe tone, outraged for his leader’s sake, Prowl hollered, “That’s an _appalling_ invasion of Optimus’ privacy!”

“We didn’t invade anyone’s privacy!” Smokescreen protested gleefully.

“Then how on Cybertron could you have watched the Matrix?” Prowl demanded, glaring at Spike. “Were you present during one of Optimus’ medical checks? I’m not sure you know this, being human, but viewing the chest chamber, where our sparks are housed—it’s not to be taken lightly by any race! And if what you’re saying is true, you’ve committed what we consider a heinous war crime!”

“I haven’t, Prowl, I haven’t, I swear!” Spike cried, doubled over as he howled with laughter. Smokescreen wasn’t faring much better, his entire frame shaking as he badly tried to stifle his amusement.

Doorwings twitching furiously, Prowl decided he probably wouldn’t get any useful information out of the human, doubled his fists and turned the full force of his glower on his cousin. “Smokescreen,” he growled menacingly. “Explain this!”

Both cackling, Spike and Smokescreen burst out in unison, “It’s a movie!”

There was a long pause, during which Prowl was positively certain he felt his battle computer fritz. Backing away, he latched a hand onto the doorframe and vented slowly for several long kliks before spinning on his heelstrut and marching away. He had many things to do—first of all, he was going to track down Ratchet and demand he find a way to reinforce Optimus’ chest plating.


End file.
